


Curing Loneliness

by Amsare



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Introspection, Light Bondage, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Translation Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-04-07 12:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4262757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amsare/pseuds/Amsare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaver knows what his King needs. </p><p>
  <i>I'm here to please both of us.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curing Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first PWP about _Fable_ \- I had to, I mean, have you seen Reaver? That kinky little thing...
> 
> English is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Here you can find it in Italian: [Alleviare La Solitudine](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4409171)

   
Reaver couldn't believe his luck: the events had taken an interesting turn, that was sure! He was grinning like a Cheshire Cat, looking at the man next to him with wicked eyes.  
   
_Mine. He's all mine tonight_ , he thought excited.  
   
"Open up, Your Majesty." He whispered, caressing lightly Logan’s right cheek; the man shivered at the touch, clenching involuntarily his teeth, feeling the arousal pooling between his spread legs. He was on his back, stripped of his jacket, wrists handcuffed to the headboard with no chance to move, completely at Reaver's mercy.  
   
_Why am I here?_ – this was the only thought in Logan’s mind; why on Earth _he_ , the rightful _King_ of Albion decided to sleep with a man like Reaver, letting him to make every single perverted fantasy real?  
   
He couldn't pretend he didn't know the answer: he was alone.  
   
_So alone._  
   
The whole Kingdom hated him while his own brother, the _Prince_ , had gone far away from the castle to gather allies – _yes, he knew it, he was not a fool_ – to dethrone him.  
   
It seemed like all the world was against him, when in the end he wanted to protect his loved Albion, to defend it.  
   
Why couldn’t they understand he was not the enemy? The Darkness was coming, it will have destroyed every–  
   
" _Ah!_ "  
   
Reaver had slapped him on that very same cheek he had been caressing just a moment before.  
   
"You're doing that again, Your Majesty." He calmly said, as if he hadn't done anything outrageous like slapping the King in the face – he didn't respect royalty after all. "Do not try to think about something else. Focus on me... Now, I’ve asked you to do something, haven’t I?"  
   
Reaver put a thumb into Logan's mouth, trying to make him open it gently. "That's more like it." He commented as soon as the King obeyed, licking at not one but two fingers.  
   
"It was easy, wasn't it?" Reaver's breath was harsh, shivering for the anticipation while Logan kept sucking on his fingers, eyes dark with lust: finally, every sign of distraction had gone away.  
   
_Yes._  
   
Who better than Reaver would know what The King of Albion needed deep inside himself? This kind of entertainment was _perfect_ to ease the stress and tension brought on by his position; Logan had to surrender to pure _pleasure_ , stripping himself of his clothes and responsibilities and craving the release only Reaver could give him.  
   
"I think we're ready..." Reaver murmured, withdrawing his fingers from his King's mouth, tracing thoughtfully the scar on his lower lip; oh, the pain his King had suffered! But not now, not in that very room.  
   
_I'm here to please both of us._  
   
Reaver knew exactly how to touch him: he knew every sensitive spot, where to touch and to press, but most of all, he knew what to do next.  
   
He straddled his King's head with a fluid movement, looking down at Logan with a smirk on his face; he unbuttoned his trousers, cock finally free – _what was the point into wearing any underwear? –_ taking it in one hand.  
   
"Do you want a taste?" He asked mischievously, moving his hand up and down his length a few times.  
   
The King tried to move his arms in vain: the desire to touch Reaver was intoxicating but he couldn't do anything except to stay there and _submit_ to him.  
   
"I'll take it for a yes." Reaver whispered, leaning on with his body, guiding his cock into that hot mouth – the same mouth who used to declare speeches and give orders.  
   
Logan swallowed it down his throat, eyes closed tightly, fighting off the urge to gag.  
   
"Oh, oh yes!" Reaver moaned, tilting his head back, pure bliss spreading through his body; he held himself on the headboard with one hand, while he was gripping Logan's hair with the other.  
   
The King had no chance to move.  
   
_Mine, all mine._  
   
It was hard to resist the urge to push himself deep down that throat because the feeling was too overwhelming: he needed to do something as soon as possible.  
   
_Right. Now._  
   
He started to move his hips properly, trusting rhythmically into that mouth, picking up a faster peace; he looked down at him, thrilled. _Oh_ , he could see some tears pricking his King's eyes, face reddened, throat making wet sounds – everything exquisitely exciting.  
   
"I bet this is not the first time you’re taking a cock in that mouth of yours." Logan tensed hearing those words, jaw aching, spit dripping down his chin: it was not his first time – _at all_ – and they both knew it; Reaver was being an annoying tease as always, a man who loved hearing the sound of his voice.  
   
“Am I right?” Reaver asked with a particular hard trust, twisting Logan’s hair painfully in his hand, making him whine.  
   
Just when Logan thought he could not stand it anymore ending to pass out right there, Reaver had mercy on him; mouth empty and lips numb, the King caught his breath, trembling.  
   
His vision was blurry, trying to focus on the man who was sitting on his torso: it seemed like Reaver had not been able to stop pleasuring himself, spreading the wetness all over his length.  
   
“I thought you would have died, Your Majesty. How could I have explained to Albion such inconvenience?”  
   
Logan glared at him, cheeks flushed. “Cut it off, Reaver.”  
   
He smirked.  
   
_You do love it, don’t you, Logan?_  
   
“Alright, Your Majesty.”  
   
And then Reaver laughed, pleased with himself, moaning a little when he squeezed harder around his cock – oh, how he loved being in control, to have such power over not a simple man but _the King_ …  
   
His hand moved faster around himself, orgasm approaching; he came with a loud sound, hips bucking forward, staining part of the cushions and Logan’s face with his seed.  
   
_Perfect_  
   
“I think it’s your turn now.”  
   
_This was just the beginning._  
   
 


End file.
